


i've got you now

by infinitehearts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, References to Depression, Yuuri and Viktor both have bad days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 17:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitehearts/pseuds/infinitehearts
Summary: “There was a boy who had a garden in his head..."The media paints a drastically different picture of celebrities that they actually appear, but sometimes, all that needs to be said is harder to say than it seems. Unless you've got a supportive fiance, of course.





	i've got you now

**Author's Note:**

> i want to thank my lovely bing partners reached_ultramarine here on ao3 and chickenstips-fuckem on tumblr! you can find their pages at the end of this fic!! the prompts for bing 1 were "garden" and "compare" (and maybe a lil "slice of life")!
> 
> find the art for this fic [here](https://amberultramarine.tumblr.com/post/172236340788/the-first-bing-a-success-i-was-working-with)!

The apartment was always a haven. A haven from his thoughts, a haven from the people, and the place where, no matter what it offered shelter from, always left him feeling far more trapped as the years passed by.

St. Petersburg hadn’t changed since he’d been gone, except in one way, far more significant to Viktor than to anyone else around.

Yuuri had come back with him, and suddenly things were different.

They curled up on the couch together, ate together, trained together. Slept in the same bed when it was cold and slept in the floor together when the short summer months proved that buildings built for Nordic temperatures truly were uncomfortable if the outside temperature was anything warmer than balmy. On the outside, they couldn’t be anything but happy.

On the inside, Viktor still felt less than whole.

He had long assumed it was just how everyone felt.

~

“Let me tell you a story, lapochka.”

It’d been a long day at the rink, but nothing would ever stop Yuuri from taking the time they had at home to be with Viktor, on both good days and bad. Even if they didn’t have the time, Yuuri would always carve it out, even when sleep was far more important.

They’d made a lot of progress in learning to open up back in Hasetsu, and it would be a waste to stop meeting in the middle now.

“Anything for you, Vitya.”

The name still felt strange on his tongue. Some days, he still used Viktor, and he could see the impact it had on his fiancé’s mood. Given names were intimate in Japan, just like diminutives here. One day, they’d be well and truly over the culture shock, and they’d exist in a bubble all their own. For now, though, putting in the effort to try was enough.

He wondered what made this a story, rather than just something, like anything else they’d ever talked about. But Yuuri wasn’t going to question, just listen.

~

“There was a boy who had a garden in his head, and for a while, flowers grew abundant. There was nothing in the world that he’d loved more than that garden, the one only he could grow.

He surrounded himself in beauty. White roses, blue roses, and so many more. Daisies and carnations, gerbera and hawthorn. The more he worked, the more the flowers grew. It wasn’t long before the flowers in his garden were the most beautiful of all.

Such a peak didn’t last long. Soon enough, the roses fell off their bushes and left thorns in their wake. Bright yellow buttercups kept piling up, but at the cost of so many other flowers. Then the thistles sprouted, and the flowers grew dull. How could they be beautiful when they had no room to grow? He pulled as many weeds as he could, but for every one he took out, two more grew.

_He’d clawed his way to the top of the podium, to shiny gold medals and the prize money that went with them. Life went on the back burner to skating. No one else could have gotten there so quickly. He’d already won, so what was there to achieve?_

_Life came back with so many stipulations. To keep winning, to keep being the star that was expected. He’d always known that there would be some people who despised him. He had never expected so many to care about the fame. It didn’t matter that he deserved better, because all that had ever mattered were the expectations._

The roses that had once been abundant were few and far between by then. It seemed that pulling the weeds would never work, for there were just too many. The thorns stood tall, buttercups replaced by bachelor buttons and begonia. He longed for his daisies back, for the blossoms that the garden had brought in the beginning, when the flowers grew perfect, day in and day out. Nothing got in the way then.

He was fool hearty. He set the garden on fire, so sure that the fire would get rid of the bad, leaving only the good. Instead, it only hurt. He knew it would, but he’d been so sure before. It was like the tables had turned all of a sudden, and when the fire went out and took all the flowers with it, he merely felt numb. There was nothing left in the garden he’d once worked so hard to save, nothing at all.

_All his efforts couldn’t suddenly go to waste in his career. Maybe he was only eighteen, but he’d reached the top, and they would think that he’d already peaked if he fell. That couldn’t happen. He doubted that he could take the shame that came with it. So instead, he let go of everything else. His family. His friends. His past. The final straw had been his hair. For the longest time, it had been his piece of home in St. Petersburg. But he’d absolved to let go of everything that wasn’t skating, and so he hacked it away, crying in front of the bathroom mirror._

_It didn’t make him feel any better._

_But his feelings didn’t matter in the first place. They wanted Viktor Nikiforov, media darling, so that was who he became._

_The only thing left in his life besides skating was Makkachin. He’d long decided it would be cruel to get rid of her. (The only question was if he’d decided it was cruel to do to her, or if it were cruel to do to himself.) Even so, he only grew hollow, not happy._

For a long time, nothing changed. The weeds grew back, but the flowers kept dying. They never bloomed, and the foliage only grew small, before the weeds blocked out the sun, stole the water, and they wilted away again.

He grew used to seeing nothing but brambles, to being weak to the whims of the weeds. But someone else came to tend to the garden of weeds. After just once, slowly, the flowers started to return. Days didn’t get better all at once, but flower buds grew. Grass returned to cover what had long become just dirt. Such a small thing made the sight hurt again, but he didn’t mind. Because now, occasionally, there was a flower waiting for him, a small reminder of what beauty there used to be.

_Yuuri Katsuki fell into his life like a thunderstorm. He knew Yuuri was drunk at the banquet, but he no longer had remembered how nice it felt to be treated like a person instead of a thing. His admiration had been on Viktor the person, who skated, rather than Viktor who skated, and was probably a person._

_Not saying something more then was his biggest regret. He hadn’t realized how much he’d hurt himself until he knew something good again, and then he’d let Yuuri leave Sochi without even trying to make a real connection, making daft assumptions about the night before. That banquet was the only thing that had brought him back to the point of sanity._

He’d made plenty of mistakes, but this wasn’t going to be another one. Instead of staying still, he stepped towards the helper, rather than away. The garden was far too much to maintain alone.

This time, things were going to be right. The weeds would finally give way to the flowers again.

For the longest time, the changes were small, barely noticeable. And then they hit him all at once. His precious blue roses were back, among all the weeds. Every day, he found something more in the garden, and that the weeds were disappearing entirely. Daisies and daffodils took root first, followed by pink zinnias and dark pink roses.

His garden was growing beautiful, all thanks to a little extra help. Sometimes there were still a few weeds that grew up into his flowers. But just a few were far easier to pull than an entire garden of weeds was.

_Hasetsu did wonders, even if he didn’t notice it. Viktor had been surrounded by people who saw him, rather than his façade._

_Coaching Yuuri through the Grand Prix had brought back a love he though had been lost forever, as well as built something new entirely._

_Life and love were gone for so long that he hadn’t realized how much he missed them._

_But Yuuri, he couldn’t be oblivious to Yuuri. After all, Yuuri met him halfway, which didn’t seem important until you looked how far gone Viktor had been. In comparison, the things that he’d done for Yuuri seemed like they could never be enough._

_Barcelona had been it though._

_The ring on his finger had made him feel almost completely whole again._

The boy realized then that his garden was still beautiful, even if it wasn’t perfect anymore. He could love it anyway, and he could work on it until it was everything he wanted it to be.”

~

“Is that really all of it?”

Yuuri found himself feeling lost. For something so big, Viktor had made it sound so insignifigant. His mind and happiness deserved more… everything, really. More attention, more signifigance, more help. Anything so that Viktor had more good days than bad.

“That’s it.”

“Vitya, you know it didn’t have to be a metaphor made to sound so small that you used to tell me you were hurting, right? We meet each other halfway. I’ll never love you any less because you’re depressed or dissociative or even if you lose your mind.”

It couldn’t be helped that he pulled Viktor close then, stretching to wrap around him. After all, Yuuri knew just how comforting it could be to let yourself get taken care of for a little while. It was only difficult for a moment, before Viktor slumped into the embrace.

“It’s still hard for me to open up. It’s been a while. It seemed… easier, this way.”

“You should take your own advice. Mental illness isn’t shameful, remember?”

“Ah, I do say that a lot, don’t I, solynshko?”

They stay there, on the couch, for what feels like hours. It’s quiet throughout the apartment, with only Makkachin’s tail beating on the hardwood making any noise at all.

“Thank you, for telling me.”

Viktor’s heart soars. All his worries aren’t gone, per say, but he feels far less empty than he did before. Maybe he needs to start allowing himself his own mental health days, like he allows Yuuri. He should. Okasan made him stay in bed when he was at his worst, back in Hasetsu. Perhaps she knew, without so many words.

~

One day, he’ll reunite with his family, and he’s sure they’ll love Yuuri as much as he loves Yuuri’s family. That’s still a way to go. For now, Viktor settles for small victories.

Like telling Yuuri.

And now, getting up to help make supper.

“Sit back down, Viktor. I’ve got it tonight. You deserve to be treated sometimes too.”

His lips curl into a real smile as he sits down and curls up again.

What did he do to deserve someone so wonderful as Yuuri?

 

**Author's Note:**

> https://archiveofourown.org/users/reached_ultramarine/pseuds/reached_ultramarine
> 
> http://chickenstrips-fuckem.tumblr.com/


End file.
